


Lost in this Mind

by Whatadream24



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Bisexuality, Dark, Dom/sub, Drug Use, Explicit Language, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jealousy, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, One-Sided Relationship, Past Sexual Assault, Possessive Behavior, Sexual Assault, Slavery, Slow Build, Stockholm Syndrome, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-19 02:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9412859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatadream24/pseuds/Whatadream24
Summary: Months after losing himself in the jungle, Jason is captured by Vaas and his pirates and is brought to Hoyt Volker, the most powerful man on Rook Island. Jason is left with an ugly scar and Vaas decides it'd be best to just keep the American as one of their own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers!
> 
>  
> 
> It's been quite a long time since I've last written a Far Cry story ( on fanfiction.net) yet this is my first time ever posting a Far Cry story to Archiveofourown and I hope all Far Cry 3 fans will enjoy this story :)

Jason falls hard to his knees onto the wooden floorboards with a thud. He can’t see where he’s at and although he recognizes the strong aroma of Colombian cigars in the sticky air along with sweat, he has has no clue as to where he has been taken to. The black and rancid smelling blindfold over his eyes begins to fall away from his vision and he sees it as it flops to the wooden floor beside him. Jason blinks the clouds from his vision and moves his gaze from the blood stained blindfold on the floor up to the desk a few feet ahead of him and the man sitting behind it.

 

“Here’s the white boy you asked for,” Jason’s heart picks up speed at the sound of the familiar voice behind him and his wide hazel eyes watch as Vaas moves from behind him, giving Jason’s underside of his chin a teasing flick with his index finger and a menacing grin. 

 

Jason jerks his head back, continuing to watch the pirate King wander over towards the man behind the decent sized desk. Jason sighs and tries to break free from the rope around his wrists but his attempts are weak and pathetic. He doesn’t notice that both Vaas and the strange man at the desk are keeping a good eye on him, watching the Brody boy struggle with his restraints. Vaas manages to grab Jason’s attention after expelling a chuckling from his strong Island lungs, resting both of his toned forearms across the top of the desk, with his hands dangling freely over the front, a Colombian cigar between his bandaged fingers. 

 

Jason stares ahead at both of the men but focuses mainly on Vaas, giving the pirate King quite the grimace. A pirate from behind Jason hits him unexpectedly upside the head with the butt of his AK-47, which causes the American to fall forward on one side of his face, with his ass hiked up in the air. 

 

Not a single sound of protest comes out of Jason’s mouth. The pirate knocked him out cold. Vaas, along with Hoyt hurry to the American’s side, both men cursing at the pirate in a whole other language. Vaas removes a hidden pistol from the waistband of his hunting cargo pants, aims it right at the pirate’s head, who is now shaking to the core, dropping his own weapon with a loud thud and Vaas keeps his glazed over eyes locked onto the pirate, awaiting Hoyt’s order to shoot the fucker. There is absolute terror in the pirate’s eyes and he drops to his knees just like Jason, helplessly waiting for the shot. 

 

Hoyt kneels down beside the pirate in attempt to cheer him up, but Hoyt pulls out a weapon of his own from the inside of his jacket, which happens to be a small pocket knife and he drags the blade slowly across the pirate’s throat, holding onto him as the man’s head drops upon Hoyt’s shoulder. The amount of blood is horrific but it’s nothing that Hoyt and Vaas have never seen before. Hoyt then pulls the knife away, dripping and covered in the man’s blood and with a grunt, he penetrates the pirate’s throat, shoving the blade in as far as it can go, straight into the center; the awful gurgling sounds of the man finally dying and the blood bubbling out of his deep wound causes Hoyt to smile and when he feels the body go completely limp against him, Hoyt pushes it off and watches the blood drain out onto the floorboards.

Vaas stares down at Hoyt, looks at the blood dripping from his hands and the front of him, nearly head to toe, and returns his gun into the waistband of his cargo pants, bringing his head up and gazes at the few other pirates guarding the door. Vaas snaps his fingers and points down at the dead man beside his booted feet. The three men are quick to retrieve the bloody body and carry it out of the room. 

 

Vaas then turns around and looks down at Jason, who has a blood stain matted in his brunette hair. He kneels over the unconscious man, he grabs him by the shoulders and pushes him onto his back, eyeing him curiously. Hoyt curses loudly more than a few times at the blood stains on his clothes but he doesn’t bother to change out of them. He stands up, tracks bloody shoe prints across the floor towards his desk and slams his fist onto it rather painfully.

 

“He’s bleeding, how is he going to be worth anything when he has a fucking bald spot on his fucking head after patching him up?” Hoyt explains, clearly over-reacting, turning his head into Vaas’ direction, his hand still balled into a tight fist. Vaas looks down at Jason, places his booted foot against the younger man’s chest and applies slight pressure, cocking his head.

 

“I recommend keeping him for ourselves boss, I mean, this little fucker thinks he’s king fucking shit and it pisses me off. I want to be the one to beat the fucking shit out of the cocky mother fucking mouth of his!” Vaas’ curses like no one has before and Hoyt finds it amusing. He walks over to the pirate King and pats him on the back of the shoulder, feeling the stickiness of the man’s bare skin underneath his blood stained hand. They both meet each other’s gaze and Vaas, as if told to, leans his head into Hoyt’s, which connects the two men together forehead to forehead.

 

“You know how much you mean to me, right Vaas, you and I will forever rule this fucking Island!” Hoyt says aloud, putting both of his hands on Vaas’ shoulders, moving his sweaty forehead from Vaas’ to place a careful kiss on the younger man’s scar. Vaas doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t even make a single move during the harmless peck on his head. Hoyt Volker is the only man Vaas holds fear for on the Island. Vaas had witnessed things he never wanted to, he had watched people who he thought he loved die and he himself experienced pain, both mentally and physically by the mouth and hands of Hoyt Volker. Vaas had always blamed himself for what Hoyt did to him though, but all of that is in the past. All Vaas needs to worry about is being the strong, ruthless pirate King that Hoyt wants him to be; he just can’t disappoint him again.

 

~

 

Jason’s thoughts finally return to him and he opens his eyes to a room that he’s not familiar with but it’s set up just like an emergency room. He finds himself laying back in an upholstered surgery chair with a blinding dome light shining from above him.

 

“It’s good to see you awake, your head might feel a little tender yet, but the stitches are tight and I’m sure the healing will be quick,” the woman dressed in a blood spotted surgical gown assures the American and smiles down at him, pushing the dome light out of Jason’s vision. The young woman positions Jason’s chair upright and gets rid of the used surgical tools in case he is sensitive to the sight of blood, but that’s probably not true. Ceria has heard a lot about Jason Brody and what he’s done to Vaas and his pirates.

 

Jason recognizes the metallic smell of blood in the air and he turns his head to the young woman walking passed him, removing the gown and bloodied gloves into the garbage. The dark tone of her skin informs Jason that she’s definitely a native here but the deep blue two piece suit that she’s wearing tells him something else.

 

“What happened to my head?” Jason asks, raising one hand to the back of his head where it currently aches. The young woman hurries to Jason and grabs his wrist. They both lock eyes and she lets him go.

 

“You’ve been hit pretty hard by a pirate, but that doesn’t matter Jason, you need to keep your hands away from your stitches,” she tells him, crossing her arms across her chest. Her accent resembles Vaas’ but it’s not as strong. Jason stands up, lightly brushes his finger tips along the bald spot on his head where his stitches lay and he can feel the stitches themselves. He’s careful to not bump them and looks back at the woman. 

 

“Thank you,” Jason says with a soft smile, and the young woman smiles right back, standing with her back fully erect. “You’re welcome Jason, my name is Ceria, just stop back in about two weeks,” she informs Jason with a wide smile, gazing down at his left arm. The sight surprises her but she doesn’t say another word as a pirate from outside the door comes in and motions for Jason to follow him. Jason sighs and exits the room with the pirate close behind him. Jason can’t get Ceria out of his thoughts and he doesn’t understand why. Why is she so important to him? Who was that man from earlier and where the hell is he?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason has no idea what is in store for him when he finally meets face to face with Hoyt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warning of attempted sexual assault.  
> Hoyt/Jason  
> Please enjoy :)
> 
> You will read more about Vaas in the next update!

Jason is returned to Hoyt's office, being shoved into it by the filthy hand of the pirate behind him. He stumbles and falls to his hands and knees but Jason is quick to collect himself and stand tall again, glaring over his shoulder at the man who pushed him. The pirate gives the American a nasty smirk and reaches out to grab him by the back of his shirt, leading him closer towards the man behind the desk with a cigar resting, smoking in the coconut ashtray. Vaas is nowhere in the room and it gives Jason's mind some sense of relief but not entirely. He's slightly confused by the man in front of him, dressed up like an Italian mob boss, well, in a pair of blue jeans.

 

"Hello Jason," the dark haired man welcomes Jason with a smile, turning his chair so that he is now facing the American, picking up the half smoked cigar. "Have a seat, get comfortable," Hoyt says nonchalantly, motioning for Jason to sit in the leather chair in front of him.

 

The two men stare at one another and after a moment stuck in Hoyt's frightening grin, Jason finally takes a seat, hands reaching for the edge of the torn arm rests. The sun light shining through the large windows behind Hoyt causes Jason to squint and Hoyt notices this, waving his hand at one of the pirates to pull just the two damaged blinds, leaving the others open to let some of the light shine through.Jason watches the pirate pull the plastic blinds down to the floor and he makes his way back over towards the front door.

 

Hoyt leans into his desk, resting his arms across it and he expels the smoke from a little slit between his lips, keeping his eyes on Jason, who seems to be looking at anything and everything but him.

 

"Eh Jason, you're the one whose been killing off Vaas' pirates?" Hoyt asks with a sly grin, bringing his hand up to take another hit off his cigar. Jason turns his head and captures Hoyt's emerald eyes. He nod s his head just like that, the expression on the younger man's face just as sly as Hoyt's, lips in a straight line.

 

Hoyt chuckles, taking a long hit from his cigar, leaning back in his chair. "Who the fuck do you think you are?!" Everything seems to have escalated pretty quickly, and Hoyt is standing with his hands balled into tight fists upon his desk. Jason's eyes are blown wide and his body has jerked back in the chair but Jason isn't going to let this man become a new reason for his fear. He's doing his best to stand his ground, keeping strong eye contact with the older man before him, who has a wicked fire burning in his eyes. Jason's grip on the leather arm rests of the chair goes slack and with just a blink of his eyes, the American finds himself on the floor, staring up at the new source of danger.

 

Hoyt is on his knees with one of his hands around Jason's throat and the other pulling at the back of his head near his stitches w hich causes Jason great pain.

 

"Fuck!" a curse slips passed Jason's lips and his eyes are pinched shut, feeling the beat of his heart pick up along with his breathing. At this moment, Jason is afraid of the man above him ripping out the stitches and sooner than later, Hoyt removes his hand from the back of Jason's head, holding it in Jason's line of vision to show him the fresh blood on his knuckles. Jason knew it.

 

A smile creeps upon Hoyt's lips and their eyes meet. His fingers around Jason's throat tightens, earning Hoyt a struggled cough. "You are my property now, boy, you no longer have the control, and you will never have power over anything or anyone like you thought you had before!" Hoyt spits at Jason, face to face and their noses are just an inch away from touching. The man's breath reeks of smoke and his eyes are full of hell fire. Hoyt smiles down at Jason, big enough so that his pearly whites begin to show and he tightens his gri p on the American's throat, feeling Jason's Adam's apple struggle to bob up and down with each swallow.

 

Jason grits his teeth and his jaw starts to ache. He's pissed and he's totally fearful of the man above him. He coughs a few times just before completely struggling to breathe, using his own two hands to claw at the one at his throat, eyes hardly open.

 

"I'm Hoyt, your fucking boss and I expect you to please me, do whatever you're told, speak when you're spoken to, do you understand me boy?!" Hoyt growls and watches Jason gasp, desperately trying to loosen the hand at his throat. There are tears in Jason's eyes and his sun burnt face begins to turn a deeper shade of red, legs kicking. Hoyt's free bloody hand reaches the hem of Jason's dirty blue t-shirt and slides up underneath it, meeting the hot skin of his stomach. Jason is too distracted by his obstructed breathing to notice what Hoyt is doing.

 

Jason fights hard against Hoyt, pinching his hand with his jagged nails, even trying to knee him between the legs but his movements are useless and he nears unconsciousness. His vision is blurred and there is a soft ringing in his ears. At the last minute, just before Jason falls victim to unconsciousness, Hoyt lets go with a pleased sigh, gazing down at the purple bruising around Jason's throat. He smiles at the sight, continuing to feel the toned stomach beneath his bloody hand. Jason starts hacking, using his own hands to carefully rub at the tender skin at his neck, noticing the throbbing of his stitches quickly turn into an irritating itch that he’s too afraid to scratch. Hoyt sees that Jason has his eyes closed and he gives him a burning slap across the face; Hoyt is taken by surprise when Jason retaliates and reaches out with his hands in an attempt to grab the older man’s neck but Hoyt is fast and grabs Jason by the wrists, holding them down above his head.

 

Hoyt’s fingers are extremely tight around Jason’s wrists just like they had been around his throat and it gets his heart racing like before. “You are a naughty one, aren’t you?” Hoyt teases Jason with a cocky smirk, tilting his head to one side, licking his chapped lips. Jason gives Hoyt the most disgusted look he’d ever seen and Jason spits a warm ball of snot in Hoyt’s general direction. It lands on the bridge of Hoyt’s nose and he starts to laugh, Jason watching his shoulders bob and a few pieces of his dark hair fall over his forehead.

 

The few pirates that are watching are uneasy as hell, drumming their fingers against their weapons. They all know what Hoyt is capable of; all they need to do is keep their mouths shut and stand still as physically possible and they won’t get hurt. Hoyt’s eyes have never left Jason’s and when they do, Hoyt is gazing up and across the room at the pirates. He motions for them with a little jerk of his head and it makes Jason uneasy and he starts to wiggle like a worm on a line. Jason can hear the pirates’quick footsteps and once they’re standing beside Hoyt and Jason, one of them is ordered to bind Jason’s wrists and the other is quick to bind his ankles. The rope is tight and Jason squirms, arching his back up off the wooden floorboards trying to release the binds but at the moment, he’s just going fucking crazy.

 

Jason is flat on his back, arms strained above his head, knees bent up, pulling against the rope at his ankles. 

 

He stares up at the three men around him. They’re all smiling and the sight causes Jason to burst into another childish rampage. “FUCK YOU!!” Jason spits violently and Hoyt notices the little vein alongside his bruised neck. Hoyt dismisses the pirates out of the room and the sudden silence of the room, complete silence, no coughing, no sneezing from the pirates, makes Jason’s body break out in a cold sweat. He’s quickly regretting cursing so harshly at Hoyt. He’s regretting ever thinking of the words, hell, he’s regretting ever being fucking alive at this moment.

 

Jason’s biting at his bottom lip, his palms becoming very clammy, his toes curling in his shoes. He watches Hoyt disappear behind the desk beside him and the sound of a drawer being opened and closed has Jason thinking of the most awful scenarios. His mind instantly runs to Keith and the terrible pain that had been inflicted upon him. He wants to scream, he really wants to fucking scream! 

 

“Hoyt, Hoyt please, pl-please don’t...please!” Jason completely loses it and begs; he already feels broken. A recognizable ‘hm’ catches Jason’s attention and the familiar sound of the same drawer squeaking open and closed has the American thinking more than he ever has in his life. He closes his eyes, breathes in deep and lets it all back out, coughing as he does so. It hurts to swallow but that pain isn’t what’s bothering him right now. Hoyt’s dress shoes click against the floorboards and he reappears in Jason’s vision. Jason swallows again and winces at the burning pain.

 

The older man tilts his head to one side and smiles down upon Jason. He kneels over Jason and brings one hand up to his hair and brushes the locks. “That’s what I thought,” Hoyt’s accented voice is unexpectedly soft and Jason doesn’t move a fucking muscle, he doesn’t even breathe as Hoyt brushes his hair.

 

Hoyt pulls out a pocket knife from the inside of his jacket and leans over Jason to cut the rope at his wrists and then goes for the rope at his ankles. “You will stand up and remove your clothes,” Hoyt orders nonchalantly, using his knife as his finger, drawing an invisible line up and down the length of Jason’s body, standing back up straight. Hoyt’s first command makes Jason’s palms sweat and his throat tighten but as he’s told, Jason is cautious of Hoyt when he stands up and soon realizes he has to get his shoes off first before anything else. Jason’s eyes suddenly meet Hoyt’s and he bends down onto one knee and carefully begins to untie the first shoe with a shaking hand. 

 

Jason’s aware of how badly his hands are shaking but he tries not to worry about it. There is a sudden tapping above Jason’s head, against the desk. Jason doesn’t know what the sound is or why it is happening but it causes him to untie a little bit faster. 

 

The tapping against the desk continues. Jason swallows loud enough for Hoyt to hear, no doubt about that, and he stands up, using his toes to ease both of his feet out of the confines of his torn up shoes. His once paper-white socks are now the color of dirt with an acorn sized hole at one heel and tear across the top of the other where he had tripped over a large tree root, cutting it in the process.

The tapping hasn’t stopped and Jason turns his head to see Hoyt tapping the tip of his knife against the desk, creating tiny indents as he does so. The expression on his face makes Jason swallow and he brings his eyes back down at the knife in Hoyt’s hand.

 

“Who the hell takes that long untying a pair of battered shoes?” Hoyt’s tone and accent are so strong to Jason’s ringing ears he can barely understand what he's saying. The tapping stops and the buzzing in Jason’s ears finally subsides but he still has Hoyt to worry about. What the hell is Jason supposed to say? Instead of remaining speechless and staring awkwardly at Hoyt, Jason lazily shrugs his shoulders and at the second he executes the simple up and down motion, Jason’s throat is quickly overpowered by the same pair of tight fingers but this time Hoyt pulls him towards him. 

 

The grip isn’t as powerful as before but it frightens Jason nonetheless. The heat of the jungle seeps in through the open windows of the large room and Jason can see a few sweat beads here and there across Hoyt’s forehead. Jason can feel collecting on his own skin.

 

Jason furrows his brows and stares off into Hoyt’s eyes but he doesn’t dare try to escape his hold. “I am a very impatient man Jason, so I recommend you take your clothes off a lot fucking faster!” Hoyt growls and lets Jason go with a shove, which only has him stumbling backwards. Jason takes those words of his to heart and pulls of his damp socks and then removes his shirt up over his head, letting it fall from his sweaty fingers to the floor behind him. He swallows again and Jason picks up on Hoyt quietly humming in front of him. Jason is good at not keeping good eye contact with Hoyt and that’s something that Jason is going to have to learn the hard way unfortunately, being as stubborn as he is, but until then, screw it!

 

Jason gazes down at his two feet, at the dirt between his toes and he sucks in his bottom lip, unbuttoning the front of his dirty jeans, slowly pulling down the zipper. He doesn’t notice that he’s biting down on his lip until the tangy taste of blood splatters the inside of his mouth. Hoyt openly chuckles this time and it sends hot shivers down Jason’s spine. 

 

“Stop,” Hoyt says out loud and Jason ultimately freezes, letting his arms fall at his sides.

 

Jason tries not to watch Hoyt as he circles him but he can’t keep his eyes down. He has no idea what this man is capable of and he doesn’t want to miss a single thing. A warm hand meets the back of Jason’s shoulder and gently massages the heel into the muscle; the sudden touch causes Jason to react with a jerk but it’s nothing that Hoyt finds ‘disrespectful’. He can feel Hoyt’s eyes burn into him, burn into him so deeply that Jason’s afraid the man will rob his soul. 

 

“No need to be so tense boy, I’m just checking for any flaws,” Hoyt says with a smile; Jason turns his eyes away from Hoyt’s strong gaze and tries to think of his friends, of Liza...of Ceria?

 

~

 

Hoyt finishes up obviously gawking at Jason’s body and picks up his clothes and shoes, setting them on top of his desk as he takes a seat in the leather seat behind it. What the hell is Jason supposed to do now, just stand here topless with his pants undone? Jason curses violently over and over inside his head, locking the words deep inside his mind in case he might have to use them; Jason wants to remember why he’s pissed off and who’s pissed him off. 

 

His testicles must have grown a size or two bigger because he’s glaring daggers at Hoyt now, watching the man’s lips curve up into a half smile. “I want my shirt back!” Jason spits, slamming his hands down on top of Hoyt’s desk, causing the items inside to knock around. Hoyt simply smirks at Jason, stands up which has Jason slowly backing away with the same expression and he wanders on over to Jason, grabbing him by the hips from behind. Hoyt holds Jason in place and inches himself close to him, lining his pelvis with Jason’s butt. Jason’s eyes are blown wide and his sub-conscious is crying out to him; his body is aching and he soon notices the sour feeling in his gut. 

 

Hoyt’s mouth presses up against Jason’s warm neck and just a second before Jason is able to fight back, the front door opens and a loud, “FUCK!” rings wildly in Jason’s ears, bouncing off the walls inside his fucking mind. Jason can feel the wet lips of Hoyt’s mouth move into a wicked smile and he starts to move his hips against Jason’s back side. 

 

“Like what you see Vaas?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason soon realizes that he's trapped between the two most powerful beings on the Islands; A King and a Lord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dear readers!
> 
> Warning: Forced watersports. I honestly do not enjoy reading anything involving being urinated on or urinating on someone but I just thought that it would be something Vaas would likely do.
> 
>  
> 
> I am hoping that this update is pleasing for you. I took wayyyy too much time on it and the end result is not what I really wanted but I am kind of sure that you readers will enjoy it way more than I do :P There will be some Vaason but it's going to be a slow build up until the actual sex. Hoyt keeps Jason away from Vaas just to piss him off and he ends up abusing the shit out of him without Vaas' knowing, which the drug lord couldn't care less but his domineering feelings change and Hoyt ends up having a teeny tiny bit of feelings for Jason (which is a slow build). I hope that this update is appreciated and you readers stick around for more!

The door shuts with a loud echoing bang and Hoyt slowly lets go of Jason’s hips, turning himself to face Vaas. The look across Vaas’ dark features is quite pleasing to Hoyt and he snickers, watching Vaas pace the room like a caged tiger. Jason looks down at his hands on top of the desk, slowly curls them into tight fists and lets an unwanted tear fall from his chin onto his hand. His heart is thumping painfully loud in his ears and his blood is beyond the boiling point; he has no fucking idea if he’s going to pass out or not, but luckily for Jason, the obnoxious arguing between the two men behind him has saved his mind from another wave of unconsciousness.

 

Busy listening to the beating of his heart and shaky breathing, Jason is taken by surprise when a warm hand meets the back of his neck, stroking fingers downward in a weird attempt to pet him like the animal they think he is. He lets it slide, assuming that the man behind the touch is Hoyt, already figuring out that he’s powerless against the man. Jason’s eyes fall closed and he lets his head fall down, trying his hardest to seek some kind of comfort from the alarming touch, breathing softly through the small slit between his cracked lips.

 

“You’ve got to learn to share Vaas,” Hoyt’s strong accented voice hits Jason’s ears and it seems that he’s a bit agitated with the pirate and to make current matters worse, Jason picks up on Vaas speaking his opinion in a way that Jason had expected, curses and a raised voice. The soft brushing at Jason’s neck stops and the fingers fall away; 

 

“You gave me a fucking choice Hoyt and I chose this white motherfucker!” Vaas curses and Jason turns his head to the side to catch a glimpse of the two men behind him; it’s been Vaas, that insane motherfucker whose been touching Jason, what the fuck!? Jason returns his head to the front and looks back down at his fists which have fallen into a relaxed state, noticing the sudden churning in his stomach. God, Jason has to throw up, he really, really has to throw up and the two men bickering back and forth doesn’t help with Jason’s nausea. Closing his eyes and momentarily blocking out all sound, Jason turns around and lets the vile at the bottom of his stomach come up and splat into a nasty pile onto the floor right by Vaas’ feet.

 

Jason collects himself against the desk and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, staring at the mess he’s made. The expressions on both Hoyt and Vaas’ faces are priceless and Jason has to fight back the laugh that wants to escape his mouth but a burp comes out instead and he cringes at the filthy taste on his tongue. 

 

Hoyt’s laugh fills the room and Vaas pulls out a pistol from the waistband of his pants, aiming it at Jason whose sitting on the ground. The need to laugh hysterically is completely gone and Jason swallows the filth at the back of his throat, staring up at Vaas. There is evil in his eyes and a twitch in his lip. The look on Vaas’ face is just pure hatred, embarrassment and evil and Jason can see Hoyt watching in on the scene from behind. 

 

“Stand the fuck up!” Vaas growls and Jason helps himself stand back onto his feet, keeping his eyes away from the vomit and on the pirate standing in front of him instead. Vaas doesn’t move his eyes, he keeps them connected with Jason’s, not bothering with the bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face. “I’d make you fucking eat that shit but seeing that you didn’t spew all over my fucking boots, I’m going to let it slide,” the intensity in Vaas’ voice has slowly died down and Hoyt wanders up close behind him, whispering something into his ear. Jason furrows his brows and turns around seeing his shirt, socks and shoes on Hoyt’s desk. He reaches out to grab them but Vaas fires the gun and the bullet rips right passed Jason’s right hip and shoots straight through Hoyt’s desk.

 

A groan immediately comes from Hoyt’s mouth but when Jason turns back around, he can see that he has his arm over Vaas’ shoulders. Jason is totally screwed. Who knew there would be someone crazier than Vaas on the islands?

 

Both men are staring directly at Jason, their expressions the exact opposite of each other, and the feeling of their gazes on him causes Jason’s entire body to ultimately freeze. Vaas returns his gun to the waistband of his cargo pants and Hoyt removes his arm from the younger man’s shoulders, letting Vaas take over. Vaas struts towards Jason who continues to stay in the immobile state as his eyes move on every last inch of the pirate King’s being; the pirate standing before Jason is a few inches shorter than him but it doesn’t change the fact that Jason is fearful of him. Vaas stays inside Jason’s hazel eyes and snaps his fingers.

 

“Drop to your knees Jason,” Vaas commands nonchalantly with a hint of anger in his accented tone but when Jason doesn’t exactly comply right away, Vaas’ tone instantly changes to something the American is used to.

 

“On your fucking knees white fucker!” he curses and a few speckles of spit land on Jason’s face and he finally drops to his knees, looking at the vomit splatter close beside Vaas’ boots. Hoyt retreats back to his desk and starts humming a tune unknown to Jason. Vaas sees where Jason’s eyes flee to and he kneels over the American to grab his face, pinching both of his cheeks with his bandaged fingers that reek of gasoline and fresh cannabis. Vaas is quite the terrifying sight up close and now that Jason is forced to look into the pirate King’s green glazed over eyes, surrounded by horrific dark circles, Jason jerks his head back a few times, afraid that Vaas’ eyes will suck him in and chew him up.

 

The sight of Jason disobeying is a little amusing to Vaas but he doesn’t make that known to Jason and continues to glare at him, giving him a hard slap across the face, one that is ten times more stronger than Hoyt’s. The slap dazes Jason a bit but once his double vision fades away, Jason sees the pirate’s evil face again. Hoyt’s humming stops and Jason turns his eyes away from Vaas, seeing that Hoyt has reappeared into his vision. 

 

“I can’t fucking believe you are still alive Snow white, I really fucking can’t,” Vaas says to Jason with a little smile slowly letting go of his cheeks. 

 

Jason’s eyes return to Vaas after he stands up with Hoyt by his side and he growls. There is a wall of anger covering Jason’s face but all Vaas and Hoyt do is laugh with each other at the sight at their feet. Jason is eager to get back onto his feet and the first move he makes, Vaas steps on Jason’s foot, causing him to stay down. Jason releases another growl and reaches out to grab Vaas’ ankles but at the sight of the man unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper, Jason pulls his hands back and shoves his back up against the hard desk behind him with a thud.

 

Vaas cocks his head and smirks, staring down at Jason as he pulls his pants down just enough for him to fish out his flacid penis. Jason instantly closes his eyes and turns his head with a groan, praying to some kind of God that that ‘thing’ doesn’t go anywhere near Jason’s face. Hoyt hides himself again behind his desk, humming that same tune. “Beat the shit out of me, I don’t care anymore, just put it away...” Jason says softly, and Vaas is now aware of the intensity of Jason’s fear, holding his penis in one calloused hand. Vaas shakes his head with a wide smile, snapping his fingers again, demeanor quickly changing.

 

“Why the FUCK do you not look at me, are you fucking stupid hermano, huh, look at ME!” Vaas snaps viciously at Jason, bending over at the waist but Jason doesn’t respond in any kind of way; he doesn’t even have something cocky to say. Jason is completely fearful and the shaking of his shoulders and his hands has Vaas biting at his bottom lip and he lets go of his penis to kneel to Jason’s size. Hoyt’s humming continues and Jason jumps when the pirate forcefully grabs the American’s chin with his two dirty fingers and thumb, turning his head so that they can meet eyes but Jason still has his eyes closed too fucking tightly. It pisses Vaas off. 

 

The buckle of Vaas’ belt clicks against the floorboards and it startles Jason who finally opens up his eyes. Vaas cocks his head and pinches Jason’s chin, flaring his nostrils. “You start fucking looking at me white boy, got it!” the pirate King demands, his tone low but the anger is totally visible in his voice and Jason licks his chapped lips, staring into Vaas’ eyes, speechless and motionless; 

 

Vaas raises his lip at the sight of Jason and gives him another powerful slap across the face causing him to fall onto his side. The strong horrid smell of Hoyt’s cigar fills the room as well as the sweat and cannabis that is radiating off of Vaas. 

 

“Nod your fucking head Jason!” Vaas growls and watches Jason collect himself carefully, sitting himself back up against Hoyt’s desk, rubbing at the fading hand print across his cheek. Jason nods but gives Vaas the kind of look he shouldn’t be giving him at the moment dropping his hands into his lap. A hardy chuckle escapes Vaas’ mouth and he stands back up with a wink. Jason looks up at Vaas, keeping his eyes locked with the pirate who grabs a hold of his penis again and after Vaas licks his chapped lips, he releases a hot stream of urine, laughing as Jason uses his hands to try and block himself from getting wet but it’s pretty impossible. 

 

Hoyt’s humming stops and a surprise chuckle comes out of his filthy mouth. He returns to Jason’s view and watches as Vaas soaks him in urine. The pirate must have drank quite a lot. Vaas spreads his legs and pushes his hips forward, using his penis as a fucking water hose. 

 

“Got to put out all the fucking attitude!” he snickers, raising his scarred eyebrow, swiping his tongue across his chapped lips once more, lost in the sight below him. The strong scent of Vaas’ urine has Jason gagging and spitting at the pirate’s feet and once Vaas is finally done and he shakes himself dry, the pirate returns his penis back into the confines of his hunting pants, zipping his fly and buckling his belt. He steps back and takes a whiff of the piss in the air, glaring down at Jason as he does so. Jason’s bare torso, his toned stomach, arms and legs are covered in warm piss and he blinks away the urine that’s dripping from his eyelashes. Fuck, he can’t believe this! The bitter taste of Vaas’ more than likely contaminated piss is on Jason’s tongue and the urge to hurl again is strong but he holds it back since he will probably dry heave more than anything and he wants to show both Hoyt and Vaas that he’s stronger than he’s revealed to them.

 

Vaas leaves Hoyt’s compound on a boat. He returns back to his camp in no time at all, thinking about Snow White and how great he looked drenched in his piss. The thought of Jason quickly flees from Vaas’ mind though and he cuts the engine of the boat beside the creaky dock, hopping over the obvious hole in the said dock that he’s sure he’d told someone to get fucking fixed at least a week ago. Thinking about the large hole in the dock only worsens Vaas’ mood and to release a bit of his anger, Vaas scans his fiery gaze across the large camp, digs into the waistband of his pants to retrieve his pistol and locks his sights on an unsuspecting pirate.

 

Vaas storms off into the camp with his pistol keeping sights on the pirate and once he’s close enough, looking into the black eyes of the anxious man, Vaas raises the pistol, lines the barrell up with the center of the pirate’s forehead and fires. The other pirates around the camp hear the gunshot and come to the west side of the camp where they find Vaas and a dead fellow pirate draining blood all about the dirty and gravel.

 

Vaas’ can feel the frantic thumping of his heart banging painfully against his ribcage and he lowers his gun, staring down at the lifeless body at his feet. A crystal clear image of Hoyt Volker takes the place of the dead pirate and it surprises Vaas but it only puts more and more fucking anger and rage onto the built up mound of anger that’s already there. The pirates keep their distance from their King but still keep a curious eye on what Vaas is going to do next. Vaas tightens his face into a filthy expression, raises his upper lip into a snarl and aims the gun down at ‘Hoyt’ who is laying in a large puddle of brain matter and blood. The pirates take a step back at the same exact time, while holding onto their weapons like their lives depended on it; who knows, maybe their lives did.

 

“Vete a la mierda, pedazo de mierda hijo de puta!!” Vaas spits those words like he is spitting hell fire as he shoots the body five fucking times. BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!! The violence in his words and what is shown on his face and in his stance have a few of the pirates leaving the area. Vaas isn’t aware of his men around him or what’s left of them; he’s way too focused on the body on the ground nearly drowning in blood and more brain matter.

 

Vaas knows that the pirate at his feet isn’t Hoyt and never was but he still managed to violate and wreck the man like he was Hoyt. Vaas definitely has so much more, so much fucking more cruelty, damage and abuse that he is more than willing to bring down upon Hoyt...if he ever has the chance. That man has hurt Vaas more than anyone will ever know. When Hoyt buzzed on Vaas’ walkie the pirate expected it to be for something important, not to fucking tease him and make him piss all over Snow White, although Vaas did enjoy that part very much!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vaas' swear words:  
> Vete a la mierda, pedazo de mierda hijo de puta!: Fuck you, you piece of shit motherfucker!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Jason willing to do to protect himself?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little sexual assault warning. 
> 
> Hoyt/Jason

Jason is shoved into the room and Hoyt quietly closes the door, watching with a faint smile as the American stands up from the fall. The bitter scent of piss still lingers in the air and before Jason is able to turn around and face Hoyt, he is grabbed by the back of his neck and forcefully led into the next room which is revealed to Jason as a bathroom. Jason winces at the painful grip he’s in but is surprised when he manages to hold back a cry after being pushed onto his ass on the chipped linoleum floor. Hoyt’s scuffed dress shoes click against the damaged floor tiles and Jason watches as he pulls back the yellowed shower curtain, exposing a beautiful, chipped on the outer edge but still beautiful porcelain tub with clawed feet.

 

Hoyt leans over the tub and turns on the water, pulling up the lever for the shower head. Jason swallows and attempts to stand back up but Hoyt stops him by placing a foot over Jason’s delicate toes. He doesn’t have to turn his head to see exactly what Jason is doing behind him. 

 

“Wasting a lot of water here boy, get your ass in the shower!” Hoyt barks and Jason can tell how well he’s keeping up with his domineering demeanor, snapping his fingers quite a few times. Jason’s eyes strain as he tries to take a look at his new surroundings and at the expression on Hoyt’s face at the same time while sliding the urine soaked jeans down his hips or at least trying to. He feels soaked to the very bone and bending over at the waist and grunting, Jason finally pulls the wet jeans off and lets them flop to the floor along with his socks and boxer shorts...eventually. 

 

Hoyt crosses his arms and raises one dark brow. The two men stare at each other with total opposite expressions on their faces. Jason looks down at his feet and the linoleum tiles, not missing the stains and brings his head back up to see the same dark look across Hoyt’s features. Jason really doesn’t want to get completely naked in front of this evil prick but what kind of consequences await him if he doesn’t? Hoyt is a terrifying fucker. 

 

Nervously biting at his bottom lip, Jason slides his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer shorts, takes in a deep ragged breath and bends over slightly to let them slide down his lower half, watching them crumple at his feet. Jason’s body heats up to dangerous temperatures almost immediately and he drags his eyes up Hoyt’s body, dreading meeting the man’s stare once again. Hoyt cracks a grin and drops his arms down at his sides, reaching out to grab Jason’s arm. The American is a little hesitant and bitter when Hoyt grabs a hold of his forearm but he already knows better. The man threatened to fucking rape Jason! Fucking rape! The only rapist Jason knew of was Buck.

 

“You have quite the shape Jason,” Hoyt comments softly and Jason notices his insides churn violently at Hoyt’s words, feeling the man’s eyes move up and down and up and down him again. Jason remains speechless and motionless, just like earlier. Hoyt instantly grabs Jason’s face with his unoccupied hand, pinching his cheeks and forces him to lock eyes with him. Hoyt grimaces at Jason, closely examining the warrior’s face, drowning out the sound of the shower. 

 

“Get in the fucking shower!!” Hoyt spits viciously and lets go of Jason’s face quite harshly, watching the quiet young man finally obey his command. Jason carefully steps into the tub and pulls the mildew covered curtain closed but Hoyt rips it back open, the metal clamps that are holding it in place scraping against the metal rod. Jason uses his hands to hide his genitals from Hoyt but he soon realizes that his penis and balls aren’t what Hoyt is wanting to get a look at. Hoyt does a little twirl motion with his finger and Jason understands what that means. A frown appears on Jason’s face but he turns around slowly, letting the heat of the water bring him a little bit of comfort. After he has turned, Jason drops his head and closes his eyes, nervously awaiting the kind of treatment Hoyt is about to give him.

 

The warmth of the water begins to soothe a lot of Jason’s strained muscles but it’s still not enough to take away his fear. He does his best to ignore the pair of eyes that he can feel looking him up and down. Jason finds his thoughts focusing on Vaas now. Sure Vaas is a messed up, evil piece of shit but a part of Jason’s subconscious is telling him that he would be hell of a lot safer in the hands of Mr. Montenegro. Jason sighs just quietly enough for himself to hear and opens his eyes to stare down at his feet. 

 

“It looks like the island has already branded you Jason,” Hoyt says suddenly, his voice surprisingly calm as he runs two fingers along a few of Jason’s scars across his back. Every one of Jason’s scars are different from each other, in size and in shape and it seems to Jason that Hoyt is having a fun time exploring every last one of them. Jason wiggles anxiously against Hoyt’s touch, hoping that he will stop and let Jason finish showering but Hoyt doesn’t. Hoyt’s hands meet the soft skin of Jason’s lower back and he moves them up slowly and right back down to the top of Jason’s buttocks. The intimate touch has shocked Jason and he jerks away from the pair of hands, nearly falling out of the shower, the side opposite of Hoyt.

 

A low chuckle reaches Jason’s ears and Hoyt replaces his hands back onto Jason’s lower back, using one of his fingers to travel further down south, in between the American’s pale buttocks. Jason jumps forward again but Hoyt has a tight grip on Jason’s hip with his other hand. 

 

“Welcome it Jason,” Hoyt whispers softly into the humid air and with an already wet finger, Hoyt pushes the tip of his index finger against Jason’s hole. The man doesn’t penetrate Jason yet, he just pokes and prods to help the American release some of the tension that Hoyt can clearly see and feel but it doesn’t help. Jason grabs onto the mildew covered shower curtain and holds onto the thin material for dear life, hoping that one of the metal clamps will break and cause the curtain to fall. Jason really needs a distraction because he is not cut out for this kind of fucked up shit!

 

He thinks about Keith again and the excruciating pain he had to go through with that piece of shit Buck. His eyes water at the thought but Jason growls and does the only thing he can at the moment. He lets go of the shower curtain with one hand and swings his arm out and around, smacking Hoyt pretty hard in the side of the head. What a dumb ass. The attack was unexpected but Hoyt manages to stand back up from the stumble and reach for the back of Jason’s neck before he can even reach the door. Hoyt growls at Jason and pushes him against the door which closes it, putting the definition of fear back into Jason with the gleam in his eyes. Jason swallows painfully and begins to choke as Hoyt tightens his fingers around the American’s throat.

 

“You disobedient little shit!” Hoyt curses and spit lands in Jason’s face and he attempts to pull away Hoyt’s hands with his own, realizing quickly that it’s no use. Just as Jason is about to fall unconscious from the lack of oxygen, there is a knock at Hoyt’s bedroom door and he lets go of Jason, spits at him once he falls and leaves the bathroom and slams the door shut, continuing to let the shower run.

 

Jason coughs a few times and with every swallow he can feel the deep bruising around his throat. He gazes around the room in search of his clothes but it seems that Hoyt has done something with them. Jason stands up, his body still a little wet and listens to the voices outside of the bathroom.

 

“His stitches are fine Ceria, please come back when you have something FUCKING IMPORTANT TO TELL ME!!” Hoyt’s booming voice is the only sound Jason manages to hear and after the slamming of the bedroom door, Jason backs away from the bathroom door and does a quick search of any kind of weapon he can use against that sick bastard. The door opens with a loud smack against the wall and Hoyt appears to be enraged, kicking the door shut with the back of his dress shoe. Jason turns around and faces the older man with a dirty used razor in his hand he had found in the trashcan beside the cracked toilet.

 

Hoyt stands up straight and lets out a bellowing laugh. Jason grits his teeth and furrows his brows, moving quickly toward Hoyt with the razor ready to damage flesh. Hoyt finishes his hysterical laughing fit and gets into the correct stance to defend himself against the naked American.

 

“Fuck you!” Jason hollers and gets close enough to Hoyt that he lashes out with the rusted razor and nicks the older man across the face. Neither one of them had been expecting that but seeing the little line of blood trickle down Hoyt’s cheek bone brings a wicked smile to Jason’s lips and he swings the razor again, this time getting his wrist caught in Hoyt’s vice-like grip. Jason tries to stand his ground and protect himself, growling and spitting curse words like no tomorrow but Hoyt over powers him and takes the razor from Jason, pushing him to the wet floor.

 

.

 

Vaas keeps his back to the pirates as they carry the body of a fellow pirate off to the edge of the water. The loud splash of the 134 pound body falling into large river captures his attention but it’s nothing new. The heat of the mid-afternoon has him sweating like a 400 pound warthog. Vaas looks down at the puddle of blood and rotted brain matter before leaving the area and making his way over to his pathetic little shack. His mind is flooded with thoughts of all kinds but his main focus is Jason Brody. What a fucking pathetic excuse for a warrior he is and the tiniest thought of it pisses Vaas off like no other.

 

Vaas kicks a couple beer bottles out the door and closes it. He looks out the glass less window and stares off into the center of the camp. Jason Brody is supposed to be his, not Hoyts! Vaas’ not fucking Hoyt’s!! Jason is Vaas’ property not Hoyt’s...Jason Brody is his!!! The thought of Hoyt and Jason causes a lot of havok inside Vaas’ head and he goes into another rampage, kicking in his flood lantern sitting next to his bed, grabbing his stained mattress and lifting it off the spring bed frame only to toss it across the room, which knocks a lot of his other belongings off his desk in the far corner of the room along with the wooden chair.

 

“AHH, FUCK THAT MOTHERFUCKER!!” Vaas screams out loud and he looks down at the mess he’s made of his lantern but it only makes him want to kick it in again, again and again. The thick glass has scratched and lodged into Vaas’ leather boots and the laces but he doesn’t bother with it. His heart is racing like mad and his blood is boiling to dangerous temperatures. He finally stops kicking at the beyond repair lantern and while still breathing heavily, Vaas turns back around to face the other mess he’s made with his mattress half way up the wall. 

 

His walkie has broke and the batteries are missing from the backside of it, the coconut bong he had stolen from the Rakyat has cracked, his box of wildly expensive cigars has fallen and spilled all over the goddamn place and the confidential files of Jason Brody and his other American friends have floated to the floor; some under the mattress and some out in the open.

 

“FUCK!” Vaas curses and hurries to pick up all the files. He isn’t supposed to have them but he does. They’re copies of the real files that Hoyt has locked away in his desk but Vaas had managed to get a hold of them. After shoving them into the only drawer in his wobbly desk, Vaas picks up the coconut bong, examines it closely and puts the fallen chair upright, ready to sit and take a load off but there is a knock at his door and he slams the bong onto the face of his desk, making his way over to the door.

 

“What the fuck do you want hermana?” Vaas growls, bracing both of his arms against the door frame as he squints from the blazing sunlight at the young woman before him. The woman in the blue two piece suit invites herself inside Vaas’ shack and he closes the door with another deep growl.

 

Ceria turns to face Vaas, who is obviously pissed off by her unexpected presence. “What the fuck is it!” the pirate King spits, making extreme motions with his large arms and hands that seem to startle Ceria. She blinks a couple times and licks her lips, trying not to notice the mess. “It’s Jason, I need to check up on his stitches but you know how Hoyt is,” Ceria begins quietly, holding both of her hands together over her lower stomach. A switch must have been hit inside Vaas’ mind because the instant Ceria’s lips say the word Jason Vaas’ eyes shrink to their normal size and he drops his arm at his side, running bandaged fingers through his wild mohawk.

 

Their eyes are still in contact and Ceria nervously licks her lips again. Being in the presence of Vaas makes just about everyone uneasy, especially the natives; Ceria being one. Vaas is silent for a little longer before he comes up to her and smiles down at her. “Well hermana, take me to him,”.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason no longer remembers where he belongs, who he belongs to

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Language and past sexual assault warning
> 
> Enjoy the update!

Vaas and Ceria travel by boat to the Southern islands. The early evening sun has been blazing down upon the two island residents for half an hour and Ceria begins to notice the darker tone in Vaas’ skin, not finding a single patch of red. Vaas closely examine Ceria’s face with an exhale of smoke from his half smoked blunt and gives her a suggestive smile, leaning over to offer her a hit. The young woman shakes her head with a nervous smile and turns away from Vaas with her back facing him. A sudden noise of agitation escapes Vaas’ mouth but Ceria keeps to herself and uses her hand as a visor to block the sun as she stares off ahead, seeing Hoyt’s compound just a mile away.

 

The single motor of the boat begins to sputter and kick up a lot more water than it should which has Vaas cursing and glaring down at it behind himself. Ceria holds onto the sides of the boat as it starts to rock with Vaas’ rough movements and looks down at her stomach that she had no idea was soaked until now. Ceria lets out a sorrowful sigh and continues to listen to Vaas curse like she had never heard before.

 

Her suit may be soaked but her hair is dry and tight in a well kept bun. The heat has been bothering her since her and Vaas left his camp but there isn’t anything she can do about it and despite the intense humidity, Ceria is surprised that there is no sign of static in her brunette fly aways although there is a noticeable sheen of sweat on her and Vaas’ skin. The boat finally stops rocking and the water stops splashing Ceria; she looks ahead and can see the compound a few feet away. Vaas cuts the engine of the boat by the closest dock and he flicks the butt of his blunt into the water just before stepping out of the boat. Ceria stays close behind Vaas, knowing for a fact that the Privateers are just as desperate for a woman’s touch as Vaas’ pirates, even though Hoyt picks up the cleanest woman for his men. One, two even three good women just don’t seem like they’re enough for Hoyt and his asshole Privateers.

 

Vaas and Ceria wander up to the front gates to Hoyt’s compound. Vaas and the two Privateers standing guard make eye contact and the two men open up the gates. Ceria manages to keep her gaze away from the two Privateers as Vaas leads the way into the compound. Buildings, shacks and Privateers are in every direction and it’s impossible for Ceria to not look away from the awful looking men. Ceria is wasting a lot of her time fretting about Hoyt’s privateers though because Vaas is Volker’s right hand man and even though they might think about putting their filthy hands on Ceria, they won’t. Vaas Montenegro is almost just as scary as Hoyt.

 

The wind suddenly starts up and the warmth of it puts a welcoming feeling in Ceria’s mind, well kind of welcoming. A few gun shots are heard echoing high in the air and a couple of the bars that Vaas and Ceria walk passed are already lively with privateers and more than a few women from Badtown. The insects are even loud and lively, some buzzing passed Ceria’s head and some zig zagging at her feet.

 

The dirt gets kicked up and Ceria waves her hand to stop herself from breathing it in and she follows Vaas up the stairs to Hoyt’s main business building. Being here in Hoyt’s territory gives her a very intense, uneasy, queasy feeling and Vaas’ silence makes it even worse.

A privateer opens the doors to the building and Vaas motions for Ceria to continue to follow. The interior of the building is a few degrees cooler than the outside but not by much; it’s noticeable though. Ceria doesn’t try to look in the open rooms as her and Vaas travel through the narrow hallway. Ceria had just been here a few hours before arriving at Vaas’ camp and she’s afraid of how Hoyt is going to react to seeing her again after being yelled at but she’s a little worried about Jason, and not just about the stitches. Privateers make up the entire population inside the large building and Ceria plays with the damp hem of her suit jacket, nervously pulling down on it. She keeps herself from looking down at the front of her wet dress skirt, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself. 

 

Vaas keeps quiet as they pass Privateers, walking with such confidence towards Hoyt’s office. A pair of Privateers give Vaas the stink eye but end up opening the door anyway. Stepping inside the large office, both Vaas and Ceria see the backside of Hoyt, whose currently busy turning the crank to his Victorian phonograph. A chuckle escapes him as the deep voice of a female opera singer begins to play from the weathered horn, putting Hoyt in an unexpected good mood.

 

“Ahh, Vaas, good to see you again, got any news for me?” Hoyt greets the pirate out loud spreading his arms out wide in an overly friendly manner, walking over towards the two of them. His eyes keep a hold of Vaas’ and he puts his arms around the younger man’s shoulders, holding him close. Ceria watches and takes a couple barely noticeable steps backward, swallowing loudly. 

 

Vaas doesn’t hug the man back or even give him a kind look. “Actually, yes I do, where is Jason?” Vaas asks with slight agitation on his tongue, cocking his head to the side, while crossing his warm arms across his damp chest. The two men are great at keeping eye contact but as Hoyt laughs and brings his eyes over to Ceria, the man snaps his fingers and from beyond the door, two Privateers come walking in with Jason between them. Vaas turns and so does Ceria. Vaas looks surprised when he sees Jason. Hoyt makes a point to watch Vaas’ face and snickers to himself as he wanders off to his desk, enjoying the sunshine.

 

Jason is clothed in a red tank top similar to Vaas’ but the sleeves had been purposely torn off, a pair of khaki shorts and nothing on his feet but what bothers Vaas are the bruises; a dangerously dark right black eye, a dark purple lump on the bridge of his nose and the horrific bruising around his throat. Sure Vaas wouldn’t mind abusing the hell out of Jason but fuck, Hoyt did a number on the American and besides the bruises, Vaas looks at the cut in his bottom lip. Hoyt leans back in his leather upholstered chair and kicks his feet up on top of the desk, closing his eyes and listening to the music with a smile. Vaas turns his eyes away from Jason and storms off over to Hoyt’s desk, slamming his fists on top of it, rattling the items inside. Ceria gives Jason a frown and holds her hand over her mouth to hide a gasp, not being able to understand just how much pain Jason is in.

 

Jason’s head is up high but he seems a bit limp in the Privateer’s hands. Vaas raises one dark brow at the sight of the deep cut across Hoyt’s right cheekbone and points at it. “Did snow white do that to you?” Vaas asks already sure of what Hoyt is going to say. Hoyt drops his feet onto the floor and the clicking of his shoes startles Ceria. Hoyt stands up again and leans over the desk, getting into Vaas’ face. They’re both glaring daggers at one another and with a finger, Hoyt strokes down the length of his cut. 

 

“Sure did,” Hoyt says matter of factly, narrowing his eyes at Vaas, who is brave enough to raise his lip at his lord. There is a shine of sweat across Hoyt’s forehead and the same goes for Vaas. He licks away the sweat from his top lip and backs away from Hoyt’s desk, cursing as he turns his back on Volker.

Jason’s blood shot eyes find Vaas who is walking towards him. Hoyt smirks at the back of Vaas’ skull and places both of his clammy hands flat on the desk, leaning against them. “No touching Vaas!” Hoyt bellows and Vaas freezes in place, flaring his nostrils as his eyes leave Jason’s, falling down to the American’s feet. There is a random tick in Vaas’ neck and he uses his bandaged hand to cover it. 

 

Ceria can see the evil, the rage, the fucking pain in Vaas’ eyes and she takes a couple more steps back, this time not caring if anyone sees and finds herself shaking. One of the Privateers coughs and lifts Jason back up with a grunt. Vaas’ hands tighten into fists of fury and he turns back around to face Hoyt. Another tick in Vaas’ neck and everyone notices. Ceria’s trembling eyes look over Jason and then scan quickly over to the closed door. There is so much fucking tension and anger in the room and it’s not mixing well with the humidity.

 

“What are you going to do Vaas, huh?” Hoyt teases the younger man with a grin, his accent stronger than ever. The Privateers can tell that something is about to go down but they stand as still as possible with Jason slumped in their sweaty grips.

 

Vaas licks his dry lips and is extremely quick to pull out his pistol from the waistband of his cargo pants, cocking the fucking thing and aiming it directly at Hoyt. His heart is beating like it is on the verge of bursting and his blood is at least a thousand degrees but he’s not scared. The blood is rushing to his head very quickly and Vaas is looking exactly like a ticking time bomb right now. He furrows his brows and the expression on his face is quite awful as he changes his aim at the last minute and fires the pistol at the phonograph, watching the music player shatter onto the wooden floorboards. Hoyt looks down to find some of the pieces beside his left foot. He loved that thing. 

 

Vaas’ lips part and the rise and fall of his chest is noticeable as well as the sweat soaked tank top. He keeps his aim on the phonograph but brings his eyes back to Hoyt’s. “You gave me the motherfucking choice Hoyt, and I fucking chose Snow fucking WHITE, the white motherfucker is MINE!” Vaas is vicious with his words, not moving a single muscle as Hoyt leaves his desk and goes over to Vaas.

 

Jason is shaken awake and his blurred vision begins to clear up. Ceria is in his line of vision and he knits his brows. She feels for him, she truly does but there isn’t a single thing she can do to help him. She’s a weak little woman. She’s only a doctor and she can’t afford to lose her job; she has a little girl at home to take care of. Ceria remembers Hoyt’s personal slaves from the past and they were all women and that’s why seeing Jason in the condition that those women had been in confuses her. Who the hell knew Hoyt would have a male slave? But listening to Hoyt and Vaas bicker brings more confusion to her bubbled mind. Vaas Montenegro, who is also extremely into women is just as interested in Jason? The Rook islands are hell on earth.

 

Ceria somehow manages to drown out both Vaas and Hoyt’s violent bickering and pays more attention to the two Privateers who are on either side of Jason. She has an idea, definitely not a good one but an idea that might work. She stares at the two Privateers long enough for their eyes to catch onto hers and once they meet her gaze, Ceria turns her head to look back ahead at Vaas and Hoyt, then she grabs the bottom of her skirt and lifts it up just enough for her tan buttocks to show.

 

Both of the men take interest in the light flash and drop Jason in an instant. Don’t they understand the consequences of disobeying Hoyt? Oh well, guess they’d rather have a nice piece of Ceria’s ass than listen to the most powerful being on the fucking planet! Vaas is shoved up against the glass door and the power of the shove cause the blinds to fall and that pisses Hoyt off even more. Hoyt growls into Vaas’ face and with the back of his foot, he kicks Vaas’ fallen pistol so that it’s out of reach; Hoyt is very aware of Vaas’ stealth and wonderful agility. 

 

“You are a little piece of fucking shit!” Hoyt curses and spit fires in between Vaas’ eyes as the grip on his tank top straps becomes tighter and the telltale sound of a tear welcomes itself into the two men’s ears. Vaas growls right back in retaliation and swiftly knees Hoyt in between the legs. The older man releases his grip from Vaas and drops to one knee but his recovery is quick and he grabs Vaas by the neck, locks his ankle with Vaas’ and pulls backward, causing the pirate to fall onto his back and hard. Jason’s eyes open again but his vision is cloudy. His hearing isn’t the best either but his sense of touch is still there and when a pair of rough hands grab both of his forearms again, he shuts his eyes and lets his mind fall into darkness.

 

Ceria is backed up against the closed door by one of the Privateers. He must be one of Hoyt’s snipers. He slings his sniper rifle over his shoulder, removes his dark sunglasses and stares deeply into the young woman’s brown eyes. His nostrils are flared and his dark skin is coated in sweat. 

 

“You must be looking for trouble teasing me like that!” the foreign man growls and he encloses the woman against the door with his large arms. He looks to be about six feet tall and three hundred some pounds. His appearance is very alarming. Jason is held up by one of Hoyt’s Privateer assaulters and the man’s grip is painfully tight but Jason doesn’t open his eyes again. At least not until Hoyt finishes up with Vaas, who is left wailing on the floor, clutching his kicked in sides.

 

Completely ignoring Ceria and her current predicament, Hoyt looks down at a slumped over Jason and the assaulter lifts him back up. Hoyt gives Jason a small smile and takes a secure hold of his chin, looking over the damage he had caused. Jason’s eyes open and the swelling in his right eye has gotten a bit worse. The bruising around the American’s throat isn’t severe but with any kind of touch, soft or hard, the instant shock of pain can keep Jason awake for days. The sniper gazes up and down Ceria’s little body and grins, bringing his lips into the space between her neck and shoulder, placing a surprisingly gentle kiss upon her warm skin. Ceria is shaking and she can’t figure out a way to stop it. 

 

“Disobedience is what got you in this mess Jason,” Hoyt says to Jason, looking him straight in the eyes, pinching his chin every time the American’s eyes fall closed. A simple ‘uhh’ comes out of Jason’s slack mouth and his eyes begin to close again. Hoyt furrows his brows and uses his unoccupied hand to brush back a strand of hair from his forehead and removes Jason from the assaulter’s grip, finally feeling just how heavy Jason is when he’s not in the ‘mood’ for walking.

 

Before dismissing everyone from his office, Hoyt looks back at Vaas who is slowly recovering from the lord’s abuse and gives the others an agitated flick of his wrist, while holding Jason with his one arm against him. The sniper along with Ceria are forced to leave the room and she’s frightened to the very soul. 

No one is here to save her from this big man. No one gives a damn!

 

.

 

“Come on Jason, I didn’t hit you that hard boy,” Hoyt says with a sigh and carries the young man over to the little couch to the far left of the office against the large windows. Jason groans as Hoyt drops him onto the dirty couch, one arm flopping like dead weight over the side, with his mouth slightly open. Vaas is seen leaning over the large desk, wiping away the dried blood from his nose with the back of his bandaged hand. Hoyt listens to Vaas curse in Spanish but decides to keep his focus on Jason. 

 

“Get the hell out of here!” Hoyt screams at Vaas and the pirate King proudly takes Hoyt’s advice and leaves the room, making sure to slam the door so hard that one of Hoyt’s pictures falls off the wall and sure enough one does. Hoyt looks across the room at the broken glass, another damn mess that Vaas has made and returns his attention back to Jason, pretty much passed out on the couch. Curious as he is, Hoyt gazes up and down the length of Jason’s body, taking in every little detail about it. Hoyt Volker would be lying if he said he had never fucked another man before, enjoyed it and all but he’d be telling the truth if he were to say he’d never owned a man slave for his own pleasure. All of his slaves in the past were women and very beautiful, young and clean. Hoyt just has to have Jason Brody, the so-called Warrior as his own, mark him with his poisonous blood, take him like the virgin women he had fucked so many times before and make him feel like there is no one else in the world but Hoyt Volker who can make Jason Brody beg and plead for more.

 

The humidity makes Hoyt’s head dance so he tugs at the collar of his red undershirt, hoping to free some of the burning heat and it does Hoyt wonders. He continues to stare at the American; Vaas’ young face appears in center of Hoyt’s mind and he tries to shake it away but he can’t. Vaas was the first man and he assumed the only man that Hoyt would ever fuck but he doesn’t believe that anymore, not while Jason is still here. 

 

Vaas was 19 years old when Hoyt took the only virginity that the boy had left and he enjoyed every second of the half hour. Since then the only gender that Hoyt was sticking his boy into was female. He had always thought of Vaas Montenegro as his son but after that night, the intimate thought was lost forever. Hoyt Volker had experienced hell growing up but now he’s the fucking lord. He’s a fucking drug lord and a sex slaver. He loves every god damn minute of every thing he does.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A partial sex scene warning

Vaas scares off Ceria’s attacker from outside of Hoyt’s office and he motions for her to follow him, agitation practically radiating off of his dark skin. Ceria’s mind is a complete mess right now but she decides that listening to Vaas is the right thing to do at the moment. The young woman swallows and glances over her shoulder a few times to see if the Privateer is trailing them but he’s no where in her line of vision. The hallway looks pretty empty right now and it surprises Ceria but she doesn’t let it linger on her mind. 

 

A Privateer with an AK-47 hanging from his broad shoulder eyes both Vaas and Ceria with an unnerving aura clouding him; Vaas growls at the taller man and pushes open the doors with an unnecessary amount of force, startling Ceria as she hurries to exit the building, as her fear of the previous Privateer immediately bubbles back up.

 

The hot island sun is now finally setting for the evening and the temperature is warm and not so offending to the skin. Faint sounds of music floating from the bars meets Ceria’s ears and so does the chirping, the loud cricking and growling of the nocturnal creatures hidden in the shrubs and large jungle trees. This place doesn’t look so intimidating at night, after taking in all the ambient lights and the beautiful glow of the fireflies. Ceria’s fear slowly drains from her body and she catches up to Vaas after losing herself in the beat of the music playing in the bar they wander passed. She walks along side him and draws her gaze over to her right to look at the pirate King. His focus is strictly on the dirt path ahead as he pulls a poorly rolled blunt from his front pants pocket with a small box of matches in his other hand.

 

“Fuck!” he curses at the sight of the blunt. It must have been crushed during the little scuffle he and Hoyt got into earlier. After a minute of messing with it, he lights the shitty blunt anyway and pinches it tightly between his index finger and thumb, inhaling quite a lot from it. Ceria watches the mind bobbling smoke expel from between the pirate’s lips and then looks down at her slowly drying suit jacket. 

 

They pass a few Privateers and when they end up at the front gates, Vaas turns his body toward Ceria, gazes down at her with a pair of glazed eyes and offers her the blunt. There is a wave of silence between them and after a minute of thinking, which has irritated Vaas, Ceria reaches forward to grab the blunt. Vaas gives the young woman a soft smile and turns his head in the direction of the two Privateers who are impatiently waiting to open the gate. Vaas cocks his head and gives the two men a crazy stare, and without a sound the fatter of the two Privateers opens the large door, watching the two wander off. 

 

“Montenegro gives me the fucking creeps,” the shorter, lankier man admits in a whisper as the fatter man closes the door. He nods his head in agreement, swatting away a pesky mosquito near his ear.

 

.

 

Ceria mindlessly smokes the last of Vaas’ blunt and he turns his head just in time to see her flick the butt into the jungle. Vaas hums and by the light of the moon, Ceria notices the small smirk displayed across his cut lips. The smell of tropical flowers and hot skin distracts Ceria’s thoughts and she doesn’t recognize the mouth on hers until a sloppy tongue begs for entrance between her lips. She blinks her eyes more than a few times and takes a step back, tasting the nasty weed from Vaas on her lips. 

 

Vaas gives her a questionable look but brings himself in close again for another kiss with a faint smirk on his lips, his dirty hands holding her hips. Ceria’s drug idled mind can’t fully compute what is going on so she accepts the kiss and unknowingly places her hands over Vaas’ warm shoulders, closing her eyes. The pirate keeps a hold of her mouth as he reaches down to unbuckle his fabric belt and pulls down the zipper to his cargo pants. Ceria deepens the kiss and tightens her grip on the man’s shoulders, managing to pull him closer to her. Montenegro isn’t looking for love, he doesn’t need that shit in his life, his high mind and body is in need of a quick release.

 

“Put your arms around me, hermana,” Vaas says to Ceria breathlessly against her lips, the strong scent of his breath and body messing with her already jumbled thoughts and without any protest, the young woman does as she’s told and winds her dark arms around Vaas’ neck and he resumes the kissing while bending at the knees to carefully lift her up in his arms, with her toned legs secured around his waist. Their mouths lose contact at the sudden movement but Vaas doesn’t seem to mind as he hurries to a nearby tree, using it as a wall to hold her against. The young doctor stares deeply into Vaas’ glazed over eyes, finally recognizing the purple bruise he earned from the argument with Hoyt around his eye, camouflaged by the pirate’s dark circle and she releases her secure hold from Vaas’ neck. 

 

Her rational mind is slowly returning to her but the pirate’s taut, tan biceps and the curl in his lip have her biting the inside of her cheek and she recoils her arms around his neck, melting instantly into the intimate grip at her butt.

 

“You smell nice hermana, very nice...” Vaas purs dangerously low against the hot flesh of Ceria’s neck, planting a kiss as his fingers somehow manage to roll up the hem of her tight dress skirt and pull down her thin panties. As warm and welcoming as the night air is, with Vaas pressed so tightly up against her, the temperature of her body rises to hazardous levels and her eagerness explodes into a wave of groans, ignoring the slight pain the rough bark of the tree gives to the back of her head. 

 

Vaas snickers at the woman’s meaningless groans and begins to suck at her skin, wiggling his hips against Ceria’s center, sighing into the young woman’s skin as his pants fall to his ankles. He must not have been wearing any underwear because now Ceria can feel the hot clammy pulse of Vaas’ erect penis against her pubic bone. God, this filthy pirate is driving her mad. Vaas’ hands return to the naked soft skin of Ceria’s ass and he takes a step back, keeping his hands in place as he curves her spine against the tree until the hot bare center of her is molded against Vaas’ dick. The intimate feeling causes the man to pur unlike anything she’d ever heard and there is a little noticeable tremble in his body as he removes his flushed face from Ceria’s moist neck, gazing at her soft lips.

 

Vaas is good at using a condom when he’s hooking up with whore from Badtown but he knows for a fact that Ceria is clean. She’s good at keeping herself clean since she’s a doctor; Hoyt had told her before doesn’t want to be touched in any kind of way by a doctor who is riddled with the clap, which seems to be the problem with half of Vaas’ pirates and the whores.

 

The high wears off but Ceria is still captured by the wonderful feeling Vaas is giving her. He cracks a smile at her and raises one dark brow, leaning in for another imperfect kiss. Ceria accepts it, releasing a small groan into the pirate’s mouth, practically losing her mind all over again to a sexual high with every stroke of Vaas’ penis against her moist nub and already wet center. She’s young and very wet so there is no need for Vaas to lubricate the woman. Vaas deepens the kiss again, piercing the woman’s lips with his nasty tongue, exploring the fleshy inside of her mouth. Another groan escapes her and her fingers dig into the back of the thin material of the pirate’s red tank and he is careful as he lines the tip of his penis with her center. Ceria can feel the rapid beating of Vaas’ evil heart when her one arm unwinds from his neck and meets the center of his sweaty chest. 

 

“Fuck, your heat is driving me fucking insane!” Vaas growls and stares off into the woman’s lust filled eyes with sexual frustration visible in his blue blood shot eyes. Ceria’s legs tighten around Vaas’ waist and she uses them to bring him closer and the head of his hot penis slides into her tight center without warning. The little penetration sends Vaas off the edge and he groans like a ravenous tiger, winds his strong arms around her tightly as he moves her away from the tree and onto the soft ground. Once on the jungle floor, Vaas is already deep within Ceria, bringing slight pain to her cervix with his deep, fast thrusts.

 

They both stare at one another, their body sweat visible in the moonlight. Vaas holds himself up on his hands, not paying any mind to his necklaces as they bounce off his clavicle with his rough movements. Ceria’s mouth opens half way as groans and breathless sighs of all kinds pass her lips and meet Vaas’ face, hot and sexual. 

 

Vaas is pretty good at holding back his own sounds of pleasure and that fact only raises her body temperature to even higher levels. His lips part slightly, just enough for hot sighs to wiggle free and his image of Ceria fades into something completely different. He furrows his dark brow, slows his hips and pierces his fingers through the soft jungle dirt beneath them. Ceria’s eyes suddenly open and she closes her mouth, giving Vaas the same kind of quizzical look. Jason’s fucking face has taken place of Ceria’s and he’s afraid to look down and see a flat chest instead of perky breasts. As close as Vaas is already to release, he pulls out of Ceria’s wet center and rolls onto his back, jerking his hips forward to pull up his cargo pants.

 

The confused and slightly emotionally hurt young woman sits up, pulls up her panties and rolls down her skirt, flattening it with her sweaty palms. Her eyes find the evil glow in Vaas’ and he stands up, hurrying over to the boat. The pirate doesn’t say a word and Ceria steps into the boat, sitting with her back to him. The boat takes a while to start up and she listens to Vaas curse and kick at the motor, rocking the boat back and forth as he does so. She lets a sigh pass her lips and wipes away the taste of Vaas from her lips with the back of her hand. Ceria doesn’t care to know why Vaas had stopped mid-fuck and she is smart enough to know that he wasn’t looking for a long lasting thing, but the bastard had teased her, hurting her feelings more than she wants to know. He must have been thinking of someone else, that being the reason for her silent pissed off demeanor.

 

The ride back to Vaas’ camp is long and almost unbearable but they both get through it. Vaas exits the boat without a peep and leaves Ceria to her own devices. What a fucking dick! Ceria has a few questions for the pirate leader but she knows all too well that the rest of tonight isn’t the best time to say anything more. Ceria carefully steps out of the boat, wanders on over to where she had parked her jeep and leaves the camp.

 

.

 

“Jason...” a faint voice mumbles his name as the American carefully opens his eyes, turning his head so that his cheek is met by a sudden coldness. The feeling wakes his senses up a little bit but after fully regaining his vision, Jason isn’t able to see a goddamn thing. It’s all dark, pure fucking darkness all around him, every which way he turns his head. Out of fear and anger, Jason raises his arms only four inches off the ground before they are snapped back by a pair of cold chains. He’s taken by surprise by this and makes another attempt to move, but even his ankles are bound by painful chains and when a groan passes his chapped lips, the one chain at his left ankle moves ever so slightly upward and grabs onto a few hairs, forcing a curse from Jason’s lungs.

 

He’s practically chained to the cold hard fucking ground. Jason knows one thing and that is that he’s not naked. Jason thanks whatever kind of God there is on this island for that. The echoing clattering of his chains with the little movement he is allowed rings in his ears and he turns his head so that his eyes are pointed up at the black nothingness that is the ceiling, impatiently waiting to hear his name called again. 

 

“Jason,” his ears pick up on growing sound and just as he is about to close his eyes, through his thin eyelids he sees the sudden flash of light. He groans again and tries to bring up one of his arms but the chains hold it back. Jason is nudged surprisingly gently in the left side and he opens his eyes again, nearly losing sight at the blinding light shining down upon him. The warrior is able to make out the shape of the body standing over him but nothing else. His head is spinning and a burning sensation welcomes itself in the bottom of Jason’s stomach. There is a stinging pain deep inside of his right eye and a very uncomfortable ache in his ass. The last one has his mind racing but he can’t figure out what could have caused the discomfort.

 

He lets his body rest against the cold ground while a pair of warm hands unlock and remove the chains from him carefully. Hoyt smiles down at Jason and slowly glides his knuckles along the American’s freshly shaven jawline.


End file.
